


Never let this morning end

by DracoIgnis



Series: Kiss me [5]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Boat, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Jonerys, Kissing, Tender - Freeform, asleep, bed, kiss, loving, make out, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 13:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20582933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracoIgnis/pseuds/DracoIgnis
Summary: Waking up next to Daenerys, Jon realises he never wants their morning together to end. A Jonerys flashfic with original artwork.





	Never let this morning end

**Author's Note:**

> Written based on a kiss prompt request on Tumblr, prompt being: "'Good morning' kiss, Drunk/Sloppy kiss". Art by DragonandDirewolf. Hope you will enjoy!

..

“Good morning.”

The words were barely spoken against her wet lips. Daenerys’ hands in his hair, his locks twisted around her fingers. Her body, warm against his, one leg swung over his own. Her breath, damp, travelling down his face, making him flush. Her eyes, closed, the tips of her eyelashes brushing against his skin as she kissed him.

_Good morning_ didn’t do it justice, Jon realised. _Great morning,_ perhaps, _Fantastic morning. Excellent morning._ _Or_, his mind quieted for a moment as she pulled back. She smiled down at him, her silver hair like a messy mane around her naked face as she yawned, dropped to the side and collapsed back into the sheets, disappearing out of sight. _Or, perhaps, Please Never Let This Morning End Morning._

The room was warm. Jon breathed out and slowly sat up in bed, letting his gaze wander. The cabin was grand for a ship, he thought. He admired the old oak table in the corner, the bookcases filled to the brim with more scrolls to read than most learned men managed in a lifetime, the carved cabinet with the door slightly ajar, just letting him have sight of blue silk and deep purple.

Then, the window. He pulled one leg up and rested against his knee as he glanced outside. He could just make out the sky above the water. Above, it was dark, but when his eyes travelled to the horizon, he could see the colours brighten. Brilliant orange and red and yellow. _Odd_, he pondered, glancing back toward Daenerys. She was peeking out from above the duvet, her eyes following his every move, and he couldn’t help but smile. _Never before have I so longed to see the sun set again._

“Is is truly morning?” she asked, her voice muffled by the fabric.

“Afraid so,” Jon admitted.

“Are you a believer in the Lord of Light?” she asked innocently.

Jon raised his brows in surprise. “Why do you ask?”

“Because,” Daenerys spoke, slowly lowering the duvet down until he could see the depths of her collarbone, “I have never been so keen for it to be dark again.” Her statement caught him off guard, and as he didn’t immediately follow with a reply, she flushed and shook her head. “Forget it. I spoke in error.”

“Daenerys-” he started, but she merely kept shaking her head.

“I have matters to attend,” she said, although she didn’t make any move to leave the bed. She was tugging at the duvet, her fingers closing and releasing the fabric again and again, causing it to crinkle around them like waves. “I shouldn’t have kept you for this long.”

“Who said you kept me and I did not stay willingly?” Jon asked.

Daenerys’ fingers closed once again, but this time remained so. Her gaze was focused on something indistinct in front of her. She looked thoughtful. “I might have acted in haste,” she said slowly, as if she was tasting every word as she spoke it. “I normally consider the outcome of every decision I make. I worry I did not last night.”

“I may not be well versed in the matters of a Queen,” Jon said, “but I don’t believe it’s normally expected that she seeks her advisors guidance on matters of, well, _private_ _nature_.”

Daenerys had to smile at his words. She sighed and leaned her head back, closing her eyes as she did so. “Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, my lord. Ever since becoming a queen, I have no private matters. All my matters are quite _public_.”

“That doesn’t seem reasonable.”

“Reason has never been a matter of royalty, that’s where the issue lies.” With her eyes still closed, Daenerys took a few deep breaths. “Jon, if I may be frank-” She waited, as if she expected interruption, but then continued in the silence: “What we do have consequences. I am going North to support your cause, to _fight_ for your cause. Having you accept me as Queen is a statement. Having you being, well, _something_ _else_…”

Jon listened, his eyes on Daenerys as she chose her words with care, and it almost hurt his heart to listen. Not because of what she said, but what she didn’t say. He could tell from her face - this was a matter of diplomacy. This was a woman speaking with the people in her mind first, her own life and needs second. She was already justifying her actions. Not for her. But for _them_, whoever _they_ might be.

“Love is not an act of weakness, but of courage,” Jon said, and Daenerys finally opened her eyes.

She was eyeing the ceiling, but he could tell she was listening. So he continued:

“To love, you must open yourself to the possibility of _pain_. From others, from the person you love. Love has _consequences_.”

“Oh, I know that well,” Daenerys said, her voice slightly trembling. “Please do not preach to me, I know of pain. I know of those consequences you speak.”

“Still you love,” Jon said. He reached over and grabbed her hands in his, and she finally looked at him. For a second, neither of them spoke. They just looked into each others’ eyes. “You showed courage in meeting with me. You showed courage in supporting me. You show courage in coming with me. So now I will show courage by loving you.”

A sad smile played on Daenerys’ lips. “And when your family turns their back on you, when the people of the North, your people, scoff at you. What then?”

Jon shrugged. “What then?”

“What will then happen to your courage, my lord?”

“There is no _my_ _people_,” Jon said. He reached up to stroke Daenerys’ cheek and, as she leaned in to his touch, he smiled gently. “If people choose to follow me, they choose my actions. And if my action is to love you, then so be it - they must choose to do the same.”

“You’re a strange man,” Daenerys whispered.

“You make me so,” Jon said, and he leaned in to kiss her.

At first, it was gentle. Like a peck on the lips of an acquaintance. But then, it grew softer, deeper. Jon held her at the cheek whilst his other hand sought her waist, and Daenerys’ once more grabbed a hold of his black locks. Their lips grew wet. Between their tongues, warm breathing, and desperate shuffling to get closer, their kiss was growing sloppy. But neither of them seemed to mind.

Soon, Jon was atop of her, and they were both sinking beneath the warm, dark duvet. Perhaps, if they used their imagination, they could make believe that neither of them had noticed the sun rise. Perhaps, they could make believe that it was still night. Their first night together. Young, in love, eager, keen, insecure, yet certain. Desperate and patient. Willing and hesitant. All at once. Morning and night. Ice and fire. Opposites, yet synonyms, because how could one live without the other?

As Jon embraced Daenerys, as he pressed so close he could feel her heartbeat echo his, he thought, _Love is courage. Yet loving you is the least daring thing I have ever done. It is natural. It is pure._

_It is right._


End file.
